you're the best present I could ever ask for
by simplysweetperfection
Summary: "The Santa smiles up at him happily and he curls his hands around the box tightly. He should just chuck it in the trash, along with all the other crap that reminds him if her. He should."


i.  
>The Santa smiles up at him happily and he curls his hands around the box tightly. He should just chuck it in the trash, along with all the other crap that reminds him if her. <em>He should<em>. But he continues to hold the dumb present tightly, with the corners digging into his palms.

He suddenly stands quickly, kicking his backpack, that was thrown on the ground hazardously, in the process. He stalks over to his desk and opens a drawer roughly, throwing the present all the way in the back where it won't bother him anymore.

Where she won't bother him anymore.

ii.  
>She presses her cheek against his arm and clutches his jacket with her mitten covered hand. He looks over slightly, smiling down at her, and turns back to the man behind the counter, holding out their orders. He says a soft 'thank you' and leads her to the door, pulling her out into the cold.<p>

She shivers slightly, snuggling closer to him, and takes her hot chocolate from him. Taking a delicate sip, she winces when it burns her tongue, and turns to brush her nose against his jacket. He looks over, smiling down at her. She smiles back as she takes his hand and pulls him to a nearby bench.

The wood is cold against her legs and there's a slight wind but it's not so bad because he's big enough to block most of it. Snow falls in big fat clumps that stick to her long eyelashes. She huffs in annoyance and he rests an arm on the back of the bench and she tucks herself beside him.

He's devoured most of his croissant by the time she murmurs, "I really do love my present."

She's looking up at the cloudy sky with a small smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She nods.

Leaning over, he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth and he nudges her knee with his lightly.

iii.  
>"Guess who," she says softly, into his ear.<p>

"Katy Perry?" he jokes.

She pulls away, resting her hands on her hips. "Really? You'd compare me with _Katy Perry_?"

"It was a joke, babe," he assures. She eyes him critically, her eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry, okay? I will never 'compare' you with Katy Perry ever again."

She smiles. "That's better."

He grins, slightly revealed. "Come here," he murmurs, tugging on her sleeve. She smooths her skirt and sits on his lap primly.

"I got you something," she says. "I guess you can call it an early Christmas present."

"Yeah?" She nods, smiling coyly as her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "Where is it then?"

"I'm wearing it," she murmurs.

A breathless laugh escapes his lips and he tightens his hold on her waist. "I love Christmas."

iv.  
>She giggles, burying her face into his chest, and her hands clutch at his reindeer sweater (she insisted he wear it) to hold herself steady. He brushes his hand over her hair and his hand press against her hip.<p>

"What's gotten into you?" he asks.

"Noah brought some holiday punch."

His eyebrows raise, slightly. "And you drank it? Willingly?"

She presses her ear against his chest as she murmurs, "Well, no. Noah claimed he had non-alcoholic punch but obviously he is a big fat liar."

"Couldn't you at least taste the alcohol?"

"This was after the shots with Santana and Blaine."

He frowns. "I thought you said you didn't want to drink tonight."

"Originally I didn't. But I was seduced by the allure of the pink tequila bottle." She leans back, wobbling slightly, to look him in the eyes seriously. "You know I can't resist pink."

He grins and she glares at him. "How about we get out of here before you drink more, okay?"

"But the punch and the tequila and the pink. They're waiting for me."

"I think they'll be okay," he says. "Let's get you home and sobered up."

She sighs in resignation. "Fine," she says, drawing the word out. "But we have to say goodbye to everyone and wish them merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah and jolly Kwanzaa. Do you wish people jolly Kwanzaa?"

"I don't know, babe." He grins.

She pouts. "You should."

v.  
>"This sucks," he murmurs dejectedly.<p>

She frowns. "I know. If I'd known it'd be this bad I would have just skipped the last few days of rehearsals and gone early."

"It's not _your_ fault, Mother nature just sucks balls." She purses her lips but does not remark on his choice of wording.

"I wish I was with you," she finally sighs. "It's so lonely here without everyone. Spending the holidays by yourself is actually very depressing."

He grins suddenly, his face lighting up. "You won't have to! We can still spend it together."

"And how is that going to work? I'm in New York and you're in Ohio. Along with everyone else," she adds bitterly.

"We can Skype while you light the last candle and then we can send pictures of the presents we got each other. It'll be like virtual presents," he says excitedly.

"I suppose that could work, and it's better than nothing."

He smile encouragingly. "It'll totally work."

"Alright then."

vi.  
>He nuzzles her sweaty skin, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone, and he squeezes her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles.<p>

"Did you like your present?" she asks, slightly breathless.

His lips curl into a smile. "Best one yet."

"And we still have a few more days until Christmas," she adds with a coy smile. His eyes light up and he looks at her, his mouth open in amazement slightly.

"I love you," he mutters. "so much."

She giggles, pressing her nose to his forehead. "I love you, too."

He sighs contently, his breath washing over her face, and he curls an arm around her waist. He hugs her to him as he leans forward suddenly. She squeals slightly, wrapping her arms around his neck, and her knees hug his hips tightly. He peers over her shoulder, his hand grasping for the plate of sugar cookies she brought over for him.

He finally manages grabs one and he leans back again. She glares at him playfully as he smiles innocently, taking a large bite out of his cookie.

"Want some?" he finally asks, holding out the shaped treat.

"They're part of your present," she reminds him, brushing some crumbs from his lip.

"I think I can share."

"That's very sweet of you," she replies. "But I'm going to have to decline."

He shrugs. "More for me then."

"You're not even going to share them with your family?" she asks, a smile in her voice.

He shakes his head. "Nope. Only you."

She laughs.

vii.  
>"I have, single-handedly, ruined Christmas," she wails. Her make up is smeared across her face and blows her nose nosily.<p>

"That's not true," he replies. He squints his eyes so they won't water as much and he cracks open a window, shivering when the cold air seeps in and turns to face her. "We've still got presents and stuff."

"But one missing aspect throws off the entire event," she hiccups. "It's our first holiday on our own and I wanted everything to go perfectly but now it's all ruined."

"It's not all ruined." He sits next to her on the couch with a grunt and wraps his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her against him. "Yeah, it sucks that we won't get to have mashed potatoes and stuff but that's not what Christmas is all about."

"It's a large portion," she sniffles. "All the Christmas movies and books I studied had a Christmas dinner. It's crucial to a successful night but now it's all just ruined."

"Yeah but that's in the movies. Since it's just you and me we can do our own stuff."

"I don't want to do 'our own stuff'. I want to do the regular stuff," she pouts. "Do it the way your family does it."

"Regular is overrated." He waves his hand. "It's okay, Rachel. Really. It was an accident and accidents happen."

"Not during the holidays." She buries her face in her hands

He curls his fingers over her hands, trying to pull them from her face. "That's not true. When I was seven I broke my wrist on some ice on our way to my grandma's. We spent Christmas in the hospital and to this day it's still one of my favorites."

"Why should I believe you?" she asks, peering through her fingers.

"We can call my mom, if you want," he says and he reaches for the phone.

"No we can't," she gasps, tugging his hand away from the phone. "It's Christmas. We can't interrupt her."

"We talked to her like an hour ago."

"That was to wish her a merry Christmas. It would be rude to call her now," she explains.

He eyes her hesitantly, very confused, but listens to her none the less. He rubs his forehead tiredly and sighs. "How about I go make us some peanut butter sandwiches or something then?"

"You're not supposed to have sandwiches as a Christmas dinner," she says, her lip wobbling.

"We gotta eat something," he replies.

"I suppose you're right," she murmurs, using her sleeve to dry her face. "Will you toast the bread the way I like?" she adds, slightly hesitant.

"Of course," he says. Smiling, he presses a kiss to her hair and pushes himself of the couch. "Do you want jelly?"

"Yes please," she sniffles.

By the time he's toasted the bread and globed some peanut butter on it, she's joined him in the kitchen. She sits on the counter, her heels bumping against the cabinet, and she scowls when he scoops up some peanut butter with his pinky, eating it off his finger.

"That is so unsanitary."

He shrugs. "It's good."

"It's disgusting. Do you realize how many bacteria live on our very skin?" she asks. He actually does because one time when he asked why she bought a twelve pack of large hand sanitizer bottles she sat him down for an hour long lecture that included online articles.

"I get it," he says quickly. "I won't do it anymore."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "How can I be sure?"

"I promise I won't," he assures. He cuts the sandwich diagonally, pushing her a plate. "Here."

She accepts her food and he digs around in the fridge for a beer and some of that flavored water she likes. Smiling gratefully, she accepts the drink and leads him to the small table.

"Should we make a toast?" she asks, taking a seat.

"Sure," he nods.

"To a wonderful Christmas and a happy Hanukkah. I hope this is the first of many holiday dinners to come. Without the destruction of the actual dinner, of course," she adds.

He smiles, tapping his beer against her plastic bottle. "Cheers."

viii.  
>He groans, popping open the button of his jeans. "I'm going to stay here until I die."<p>

"I told you not to have that second helping of pie," she laughs.

He pouts. "You were right. Why didn't I listen to you?"

"Because, and I quote, pie is good you'll be fine."

"Gross." he grimaces. "I don't ever want to see pie again in my life."

She giggles. "I already told Carole we'd bring the leftovers home. Kurt said he didn't want anything cluttering his fridge.'

"Kurt sucks," Finn groans. "Now I'm going to be fat. You're gonna marry a fat dude."

"A little belly never hurt anyone," she assures, patting his knee. "As long as you enjoyed dinner."

"I did, a little too much."

ix.  
>"Rach, calm down. Everything's going to be fine," he murmurs, rubbing her shoulders lightly.<p>

She turns quickly and glares at him. "How can you say that? Your whole family is coming over, the apartment's a mess, and I'm fairly certain I messed up on the stuffing."

He bits back a smile. "Babe, the apartment looks great. I'm pretty sure it's never been cleaner."

She narrows her eyes. "If that was a jab at my cleaning habits it was not appreciated or necessary. I just enjoy a clean environment."

"Whoa, aggressive much?" he asks, his eyebrows raised. "This is really getting to you isn't it?"

"Everything needs to be perfect," she says. "Last year at Kurt's was practically flawless and now it's our turn and we need to beat him."

"You do realize it's not a contest, right?"

"That's not the point!"

x.  
>"I've always connected with Rudolph," she remarks. "Even as a child."<p>

He turns to her, confused. "You connected with a reindeer? What, do you have a tail you've managed to hide from me?"

She rolls her eyes. "I've emotionally connected with him. Everyone made fun of him because of the way he looked and the way he acted. They finally realized how amazing he was when he swooped in and saved the day. I suspect the same will happen to me when we go back to Lima for our reunions when I'm famous."

He frowns. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"That you were made fun of," he says. "I wish everyone saw how awesome you are."

She shrugs. "The past is in the past. There is no changing it, so why think about it?"

xi.  
>"You are going to spoil Chris rotten with gifts, aren't you?" she laughs.<p>

"Of course. It's his first Chrismukkah after all." He grins.

xii.  
>"Do you think we should maybe get him inside soon?" He asks as he watches Chris gnaw on his little mitten. His tiny face is pink from the cold and his Elmo hat crooked on his head, causing one of his little ears to turn red.<p>

"I think he'll be okay for a little while longer," she assures. "Won't you, Chris?" she asks sweetly and Chris giggles as she kisses him on the cheek sloppily.

Finn adjusts his hat and murmurs, "Are you sure? Because I don't want him to get sick. Especially over the holidays. That would suck."

"Finn, he's fine," she replies, patting his arm reassuringly. "You worry too much."

He resists rolling his eyes.

Their son wriggles in her arms suddenly, watching the bright lights of a shop display excitedly. "Mama!" he exclaims, patting her cheek. "Mama!"

"Isn't it pretty?" she coos.

"Pretty," Chris repeats, his little mitten covered hand clutching her jacket.

His kid is super smart like that.

"Not as pretty as your mommy," he says sweetly.

She laughs "You're a little suck up, aren't you?"

He grins, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Only for you."

xiii.  
>"Merry Christmas, baby," he mumbles against her lips.<p>

She curls her hands around the collar of his jacket and smiles up at him widely. "Happy Hanukkah, Finn."

xiv.  
>"This is always the worst part," he states. "I always hated taking down all the decorations."<p>

"I know it's not fun, but it needs to be done," she says firmly.

He pouts. "Can't we just leave them up a little longer?"

"Finn, it's the middle of January," she argues. "It's long overdue."

"Fine," he sighs.

xv.  
>"What do you have there, buddy?"<p>

"From mommy," Chris smiles, holding out the small present.

"Really? I wonder what she got me." He shoots his wife a grin and tears through the wrapping paper eagerly.

She laughs. "It's more for the whole family," she says, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

He looks up at her quickly when he finds the little blue booties laying at the bottom of the small box.

"Mommy, Daddy's feet can't fit in those," Chris giggles.

"They're not for Daddy."

"Seriously?" he asks excitedly.

She smiles innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He laughs happily and pulls her into a tight hug, pressing light kisses to her face. "Best present ever," he declares.

"You say that every year," she giggles.

"This time I mean it."


End file.
